Ad Astra

An introspective sci-fi film, which is as much about the character’s internal journey as it is about his voyage across the solar system. Brad Pitt carries the entire film, but as great as his performance is, some may feel that the film lacks pace and that the denouement doesn’t have the emotional impact that you might have hoped for.

Premise: In the near future, a series of unexplained power surges originating from the outer solar system threaten life on Earth. Astronaut Major Roy McBride (Brad Pitt) is sent on a secret mission to attempt to make contact with his long-lost father (Tommy Lee Jones), an astronaut who went missing 16 years ago beyond Neptune while searching for evidence of intelligent extra-terrestrial life, and who may be connected to the source of the surges.

Review:

Within the sci-fi genre, there’s a sub-genre of films that focus on thoughtfully tackling philosophical and personal issues, rather than space battles and aliens. Some of these have been great (such as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Gravity and my favourite film of 2014, Interstellar), while others have fallen into pretentiousness and failed to connect with audiences (like 2002’s Solaris remake). Ad Astra (which is Latin for “to the stars”) probably falls somewhere between the two camps.

In terms of the positives, the films strikes a contemplative tone without ever becoming unengaging, and the script takes its time to get to its destination while also throwing in plenty of events along the way. In many ways, the structure of the film feels like a personal “odyssey”, as we follow Brad Pitt’s character in every scene as he journeys from Earth’s orbit, to the Moon, to Mars and beyond, and all of the other characters just flit in for a scene or two as Pitt’s character meets them in his journey. And each stage of his journey has its own moments of drama, whether it be an accident during a space-walk, answering a distress call from another spaceship, or evading “pirates” in lawless areas of the Moon. You sense that the writers were keen to inject these set-pieces into what could otherwise have been a very dry and introspective film.

“…Pitt does a tremendous job of conveying inner turmoil through physical performance alone…”

The film is, first and foremost, a character study of Pitt’s Major Roy McBride. The film follows him in literally every scene, and we get brief bursts of narration from him from time to time, discussing his internal thoughts and reactions to the latest developments. These voiceovers could have been a clumsy exposition tool, but they’re used sparingly, and most of the audience’s insight into Roy McBride’s state of mind actually comes from Pitt’s physical performance. Roy McBride starts the film as an emotionally repressed automaton, driven by a need to live up to the legacy of his long-lost father the “hero astronaut”, to the exclusion of all other relationships and considerations. But as the film unfolds, he is forced to question not only what he thought he knew about his father, but also what he thought he knew about himself. As his sense of identity and control begin to unravel, Pitt does a tremendous job of conveying that inner turmoil through his physical performance alone, given that (with the exception of the occasional voiceover) Roy McBride is not someone who talks about his feelings to anyone else.

Although the film lives or dies on Pitt’s performance, he’s assembled a fantastic supporting cast around him. Each of them may only appear for 5 minutes in a scene or two, as Roy McBride meets them on his travels and them moves on, but when your supporting cast includes Donald Sutherland, Ruth Negga, John Ortiz and of course Tommy Lee Jones, you can rely on them to make an impact with very little screen time. Even the criminally underused Liv Tyler makes a memorable impact in what is essentially a tiny, non-speaking role.

“…goes for an authentic approach to the cinematography…”

Visually, the film is very striking, and director James Gray has clearly tried to go for an authentic approach to the cinematography, that feels more reminiscent of the pseudo-documentary style of First Man, than the polished aesthetics of Star Wars.

Yet despite all of these positives, the film never quite seemed to fully live up to its potential. Yes, there are a lot of dramatic incidents along the way, but they never seem to grab the audience or generate any real sense of jeopardy. Maybe this is because Roy McBride is so emotionally repressed, he always reacts to every crisis with a detached professionalism (at one point it’s commented on that even when facing possible death, his heart-rate never goes over 80 BPM)? Or maybe it’s because we know Roy McBride himself is not in any real danger (as the whole film is his journey), and we never spend enough time with any of the other characters to really care whether or not they live or die? Whatever the reason, despite the high number of dramatic incidents, the film actually generates very little dramatic tension.

“…Brad Pitt’s nuanced emotional odyssey is a satisfying one…”

Then there’s the ending, and without saying too much, I both liked the ending and also felt that it was strangely anticlimactic. I really appreciated the sentiment behind the ending, and found the conclusion of Roy McBride’s emotional journey very satisfying – but the conclusion of his literal journey across the solar system was a little underwhelming. That said, I guess it just goes to show that the film is really far more concerned with his internal journey than his physical one, and in that respect, I found the final scene of the film genuinely touching.

This won’t be a film for everyone, and it lacks the broader dramatic appeal of films like Gravity and Interstellar. But if you’re interested in the character study of someone who faces their own personal journey into the heart of darkness (a space-based Apocalypse Now, if you will), then you may find Brad Pitt’s nuanced emotional odyssey a satisfying one.